My Dear Valentina

Publicity Seeks Out

After the bombing of flight 375 where 200 passengers and airline workers were killed, one of the few survivors, Valentina Rosavesky, a famous dancer in Russia, as finally returned to the art world after a 3 year recovery. She was injured in her right leg and was not....
"Will you shut that stupid T.V. up? I don't need to be reminded of things I will never forget." Valentina said to her agent, in a more rude manner than she meant.
"Well aren't you a morning person." replied Paul, her agent, he reluctantly turned off the T.V. "There is some chocolate filled crepes, with a chocolate maple syrup, some fresh berries, with a creamy mocha on the side." Paul said this in his best impressions of one the chefs from his favorite channel, Food Network.
"Did you make this stuff?" Val asked warily remembering the last time Paul tried to make food. She shivered and cringed at the thought.
"No, you can thank Wilson for it. Make sure to eat it because we don't wamt your already crabby mood to get worse because of low blood sugar. You got a big day today."
"Yeah, don't remind me." she grumbled, he really didn't have any idea what low blood sugar was, after she scraped all of the chocolate off, she began to shove food in her mouth. She hoped Paul and Wilson wouldn't break up because Wilson could cook and Paul ... Well let's hope he never tries to make tacos ever again.
After she finished her amazing food, Valentina got dressed, brushed the matted fur monster she called hair, and brushed her teeth. She called her body guard Adam to get his butt down to the house because he had a thing for being "fashionably late".
Once he arrived, 10 minutes late of course, they headed off to the West L.A. Dance Studio. They barely made it to their car thanks to the paparazzi who never seemed to go away like flies and mosquitoes.
"Are you ready for this?" Adam asked politely trying to make small talk.
"Hell no, but I have to be." Val replied.
The one day Valentina wished for the best L.A. traffic it could give there barely was any. The thing she had been dreading was only a few blocks away, Rosalina Parker, young starlet of Seattle Ballet. Valentina was in for a treat, not.
When they finally got there, Valentina's heart rapped against her rip cage. Her fight or flight instinct kicked in but with any performance she ever did her "just do it" instinct was stronger. Be confident, this child as nothing on a renowned dancer like you, she is but a mouse and you are the fiesty tiger that will eat her soul. She told herself as she graced the many steps of the dance studio builing to the private studio they would be working in.
When she finally reached her destination, she did not go in immediately because she was here already. Rosalina Parker seemed to be talking to herself and Val listen in before she even looked at Rose.
"You can do this, okay, just survive each day. This woman is going to kill you." that is true Val definitely had a difficult workout ahead, "But you will come back tomorrow and look Valentina Rosavesky in the eye and say I'm ready." Valentina took that as her que to go in and she quickly noticed that Rose lost any confidence she once had a second ago. She was a tall, beautiful, brunette, but had awkward body language as she studied Val.
"Hi...um....I'm Rosalina Parker, it is such an honor to be working with you. I'm so excited to learn anyt-" Valentina cut her off.
"Hi, Valentina, you will refer to me as coach, you will listen to ev-er-y-th-ing that I have to say and you will do it with out buts." her thick russian accent must have scared Rose because she instantly gulped.
"Yes, coach." she said, fear unmasked in her voice.
"Good, Let's begin." no one could be confident under the mischievous look Val gave Rose. Rose had become a pig for slaughter.